


The Curious Case of the Custard

by thoseindarkness



Series: Silly Saucy Shorts [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, F/M, Fluff, Food Kink, Food Porn, Food Sex, Foreplay, Light Angst, Pastries, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-10 11:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17424845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoseindarkness/pseuds/thoseindarkness
Summary: Rey is a pastry chef, living her dream of owning her own boulangerie. Ben is one of her regulars. They draw closer together in the warm, inviting, carb-filled confines of her kitchen over a shared love of food.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elemie89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elemie89/gifts), [JenfysNest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenfysNest/gifts), [ReyloWarrior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReyloWarrior/gifts), [sidsaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidsaid/gifts), [Azuwrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azuwrite/gifts).



> A silly little fic I wrote based on three of my favorite subjects... sex, food, and Reylo. 
> 
> Many, many, many, thanks to my betas: [JenfysNest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenfysNest/pseuds/JenfysNest), [sidsaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidsaid/pseuds/sidsaid) and [Azuwrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azuwrite/pseuds/Azuwrite). You should go check out their work. Additional shout to Azuwrite for her amazing mood boards (which I will one day figure out how to embed at the tops of my stories.

The bell tinkled as the front door opened. Rey dusted the flour from her hands and stepped out of the kitchen into the tiny storefront of her boulangerie. The scent of raw dough and burning sugar gave way to the gentler aromas of warm bread and cooked fruit. Through the row of glass pastry cases she noticed it was dark out. She hadn't realized how late it had gotten.

Her face lit up when she spied her favorite late-night customer toying with his cell phone. His broad shoulders were hunched and tense. His face pinched into a deep frown. He ran long fingers through his dark hair and sighed.

"Bad news?" she asked, stopping at the register.

Ben's head popped up, the frown melting away into a smile as he tucked his phone into the pocket of his slacks. "Isn't it always?"

He was some high-power lawyer. He didn't share too many details about his job, confidentiality and all that. She knew that, while he loved it, he often struggled with it, which Rey found strange, but she'd never had the courage to dig deeper.

"Coffee?" _s_ he asked.

"Not tonight, _chérie._ I have an early day tomorrow. Big meeting." He pouted slightly as he leaned toward the displays. "I'll take a mixed box for twenty though."

She sighed deeply, pulling a large box from under the counter and stooped to collect an assortment of pastries. "You know if you call in advance, I can make you fresh ones for the morning."

"I don't like my coworkers that much," he chuckled.

"I could use the customers," she needled.

"I like having you all to myself, _chérie_."

Rey was very glad the display hid the rush of crimson to her cheeks. She may have been nursing a tiny little crush on her favorite customer. Every time she thought it was going away he said things like _that_ and it roared back to life.

She made sure to give him an extra éclair. Ben often mentioned his scary boss, whom he hated, but was stuck working for. His boss seemed to like Rey's éclairs though and she made sure there were a couple extra in any boxes he took to work. His visits were such a welcome break to the monotony that it was the least she could do in return.

She could feel his gaze on her as she taped the box shut and tied it with a length of ribbon. "Anything for you tonight?"

"No. Working on anything special?"

She smiled, curling the edges of the ribbon with a pair of scissors. Ben had been coming to her shop for over a year. Their shared love of French delicacies had led her to testing new recipes on him before committing to them for a season. He always gave her honest, and when necessary, critical feedback.

"It's almost Memorial Day, you know what that means."

"Berries," he groaned. "Are you going to do those mini raspberry cheesecake bites again? You know how much I love raspberries."

"I was thinking of doing tartlets this year. I have a line on some very good-looking boysenberries. Maybe a boysen-blackberry compote with _crème fraîche_."

"Oh god. I'm going to gain ten pounds if you do that."

"I don't see how." She slid the box toward him and began punching his order into the register. "You didn't gain any weight after all the _teurgoule_ you ate over the winter."

"I put _a lot_ of extra time in at the gym."

"Well, it shows."

She realized a second after the words had left her mouth _exactly_ what she'd just said. Hot blood rushed up her neck and she ducked under the counter to collect a bag, praying he hadn't caught the look of terror on her face. After a couple of deep breaths, she was fairly certain she'd be alright and popped back up with the paper bag in hand. The smirk he was wearing let her know she might not be as slick as she thought she was.

He paid for his pastries without comment, though he kept the smirk. All too soon he was leaving. Rey liked the nights where he stayed for coffee. They talked about food, wine, the French countryside and how they both missed it terribly. She knew that thoughts of him would creep in later as she was closing up. They tended to when Rey was feeling lonely.

_"Bonsoir, chérie."_

"Goodnight, Ben. Good luck tomorrow."

* * *

It was an unmitigated disaster. The entire kitchen looked like a war zone. There were blueberries on the wall, sweetened condensed milk all over the counter tops, broken dishes by the sink and she was now down, not one, but two employees. It was impossible to stop the flood of tears from streaming down her cheeks as she set about cleaning the compote off the walls before it stained. She was only halfway done when the bell over the door rang.

"Be with you in a moment," she called, wiping her face with the edge of the stained rag. She sniffed several times and prayed it didn't look like she'd been bawling her eyes out as she stepped into the shop.

Ben was always a welcome sight. He smiled warmly at her, but after a moment the smile slipped. _"Chérie?"_

She took in a sharp breath and steadied herself, assuming as calm a demeanor as she could manage. "Good evening. What can I get for you?"

"Uh un." He shook his head, waving away her stoicism. "Whatever's wrong, you can tell me over coffee."

Rey glanced back in the direction of the kitchen, grimacing at the thought of wading back into that mess. His eyes skated from her to the kitchen and back again before he leaned into the counter, dropping his voice.

"Is someone back there? Do you need help?"

Realizing he'd thought the worst, she blurted out, "I'm fine! God, no. Everything is fine, just…" She sighed. "It's a mess back there."

"What happened?" His voice was so gentle, the words just came spilling out of her.

"It was terrible. Two of my employees had a row. They trashed the place and quit." Fresh tears spilled out of the corner of her eyes at the memory. She hastened to wipe them away. "I'm sorry."

"Hey." He reached across the checkout, running a hand down her arm. "It's okay. Come on. Come sit with me."

With a sniffle, she shimmied through the gap separating the register from the displays. Ben put an arm on her back the second she was in reach. He led her to one of the three small tables in her miniscule dining room and took a seat across from her. It was surreal being ushered around in her own bakery, but that was just the day she was having.

"How bad are we talking here? That time you burned a whole batch of _pain d'épices_ terrible? Or the fight you had with Poirier terrible?"

Rey snorted. It made her feel a little better that he remembered the stupid stories she'd told about her nightmare experiences working for Valentin Poirier. Poirier was a world-renowned pastry chef. Working for him had been a huge honor, but he was a difficult man at the best of times and nightmare when disappointed.

"More like, the six cases of flour that got left out in the rain terrible."

"See, that's not so bad."

"You're right. You're absolutely right. I'm just stressed out." She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. "You didn't come here to listen to me complain."

He chuckled, plucking a napkin from the metal holder on the table. "Rey, listening to you complain is one of the highlights of my week." He took her chin and scrubbed the napkin down her cheek. It came away tinged purple. "I work with people who lie all day. You're one of the only honest people I know." He handed her the napkin. "Besides, what are friends for? You have berry on your hands."

She smiled down at her stained fingers. "Are we friends?"

"God, I hope so, because if you give that many free pastries to your other customers you're going to go out of business."

She snorted.

"I'll prove it you. Let me help you clean up."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not."

"You're in a suit."

"I'll have it dry cleaned."

She shook her head. "I couldn't ask that of you."

"You didn't. I offered."

"You've got to have better things to do on a Friday night."

"I really don't."

"Ben—"

"I'm a lawyer. I will counter every excuse you make. You can't win this argument."

She sighed, completely taken aback by his offer. There was a very loud voice in the back of her head screaming at her to stop being an idiot and let him help. She loved his company, it was a huge mess, and she was in no mood to spend the night alone in her state. Still, there was that tiny voice saying it was inappropriate. He was a customer. She couldn't just let him walk into the kitchen.

He took one of her stained hands and a jolt ran through her. "Let me help you."

"Alright." She slid from her chair. "Come on. Let me find you an apron."

With Ben's help it took only an hour to clean the kitchen and set everything back in order. Rey made a mental note of all the dishes she'd have to replace as she pulled a small block of cheese and some grilled chicken from the walk-in. It was her emergency stash for long nights or missed lunches. She re-emerged, pointing to the pile of leftover loaves.

"Pick one. There's butter on the shelf up there." She held up a mason jar. "And something sweet."

Ben eyed the dark jar. "What is it?"

"Fruit preserves." She checked the top. "Blackberry. What we don't use we make preserves out of. It was Cindy's idea to sell them at the farmer's market. She won't be doing that anymore. Seems a shame they go to waste."

"You know me. I'll try anything you put in front of me." He smiled as he scanned the loaves. Rey knew before he did it that he'd choose the pumpernickel. When his lean fingers closed around the loaf, she turned away to hide her smile, grabbing the bread knife from the magnetic strip along the wall. "So, what happened?"

Rey shrugged. "Love happened." Handing the knife to Ben, she set about opening the containers as he sliced the loaf. "Cindy and Michael started dating a few months back. I didn't really care, though in hindsight I probably should have. Then that love went terribly wrong all over my kitchen." She popped a piece of chicken into her mouth and sighed.

_"L'amour."_ Ben chuckled as he pulled the butter and preserves toward him.

"It always ends in disaster," she said, reaching under his outstretched arm for a slice of bread.

He raised an eyebrow at that. "That couldn't possibly be true or the human race would have died out long ago."

"Oh really? How long has the human race been arranging marriages for reasons other than love? We did it to continue the species, to strengthen our family's lands or titles, to further religious beliefs. Love is a relatively new factor in the marriage contract, historically speaking."

"And I thought I was a cynic." Ben's brow furrowed as he buttered his bread.

"Do you disagree?"

"With your follow up argument, no. But I can't say that the argument you make necessarily supports your initial assertion. Human beings need love to survive. The absence of it leaves a mark. As the child of a somewhat broken home, I speak from experience." He gave her a smile. "I think you know what I mean."

Rey curled a single slice of bread around her chicken and cheese, waving them menacingly at her dinner guest. "I do, which is why I said it."

"Oh, there's more to the story than that." Ben waved a jelly laden knife at her in response. " Tell me, _chérie_ , what put you off love?"

"There's not much to tell, really. It never works."

"Have you ever been in love?" He leaned onto the stainless-steel countertop and took his first bite.

Rey watched intently as he chewed. She did so enjoy watching him eat. The way his jaw worked. The muscles around his mouth did the strangest things, but they were such tells. She always knew whether or not he liked something long before he spoke, all based on the shapes his mouth made.

"You like it?"

"You made it." He smiled. "It's delicious, but I'm holding out for the raspberries."

She dipped her head, fighting a wide grin. "Of course you are."

"You haven't answered my question."

Rey shook her head, biting into her half-sandwich to buy herself time to think.

"You're stalling."

"I'm not," she said around a mouth full of chicken.

"You are. I know these things. Call it a professional skill." He stole a bit of chicken from the container in front of her. "Have you ever been in love?"

"I don't think I have. I mean, I've never really been with anyone long enough."

"It's not about time. The fact that you don't _think_ you have is proof enough you probably haven't been, which is a shame. Everyone should fall in love at least once."

"Have _you_ ever been in love?"

"Only once." His lips curved into a sad smile as she stared deeply into his sandwich. "It was a long time ago. Hm." He shook his head. "Sometimes I think about the things I can't remember anymore. The sound of her laughter. The way she smelled. Her hands." He reached across the counter and took one of Rey's hands, running his thumb across her knuckles. "I used to love her hands. I would watch her do random things and for some reason I was fascinated by them. Now I can't picture them at all."

Her lungs seemed to constrict at the very thought of the question forming in her mind. Her tongue became too heavy and her mouth too dry. She had to clear her throat to ask, "What happened?"

"Work," he said, meeting her eye. "At the time I was just starting my career. Long hours. Travel. Near the end there I barely saw her. One day I came home and all her stuff was gone. The terrible thing is, I saw it coming and I knew what I needed to do to keep her. I had to choose between the job I loved and the woman I loved." He sighed, "Only I didn't. I didn't choose. I just kept going hoping that it would fix itself."

"You did choose." Rey curled her fingers around his. "You chose your career. If love is as wonderful as everyone says it is, you shouldn't have to, right?"

Ben shook his head, letting her hand slip free. "It only works that way in fairy tales. You do have to choose and I'm not sure I made the right choice."

"I thought you loved your job."

"I love the work. The job's been less rewarding in the last few years."

"Your boss?"

He nodded. "But like love, if I want my career to get better I have to work at it. I'm working."

"Well, I chose my career." She looked around her kitchen content in the knowledge that it was hers. A business that she'd built from the ground up. Blood, sweat, and recently shed tears. "And I can honestly say I'm happier right now than I ever was in any relationship."

Ben brought his sandwich to his lips and smiled. "Then at least I'm in good company."

* * *

Mornings were Rey's bread and butter. She could make an entire month's rent before ten am on a busy Monday. The line would go around the block, but she always got through it. By the end of her first week with only one employee, she was desperate to find extra help. Her mornings had turned into hellscapes with people waiting in line for half an hour before leaving. Even some of her regulars were starting to get snippy with her.

Saturday was mercifully quiet. The trickle of customers was steady through the afternoon before tapering off. She often bemoaned her tiny dining room, but it had become her salvation. When there were diners someone had to man the front of house. With no extra staff, that fell to her from eleven am until close. This was the exact predicament she found herself in on Saturday afternoon. She waited behind the counter as a pair of customers sat in the dining room eating the half dozen pastries they'd ordered.

Rey tried to keep herself busy as they ate. There wasn't much to do, so she made a few short jaunts into the kitchen to restock the displays, but after fifteen minutes she was relegated to hiding behind the wall of confections and making mental lists of all the work she needed to finish before she could go home. She was so lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice the man approach the register.

"Excuse me," he called, leaning over the counter.

She jumped into action. "Yes. What can I help you with?"

"I was wondering if the owner is here?"

"She is. I mean, yes. I'm the owner." Rey frowned. "Was everything alright?"

He smiled. "Everything was excellent, thank you." He thrust his hand out. "My name is Roger Kincaid. A friend of mine told me you had a few positions open."

"Yes!" She brightened, shaking his outstretched hand. "I do. Are you interested?"

She was desperate to get anyone in. She'd have preferred baking or pastry experience, but by that point she'd take anyone. She made a mental note to call Finn and thank him for spreading the word.

Roger chuckled. "No, sorry. I work for the Culinary Institute. My wife and I are in town for the weekend and I wanted to come personally. Ben is always raving about you."

"Ben?" Rey cocked her head to one side.

"He's in here all the time." Roger pursed his lips. "He gave me the impression you two knew each other."

"Y-yes. We do. I'm just surprised. I didn't know he talked about the shop."

"He's been on my ass to get in here for months. Called me a couple days ago and said you were in a tough spot. Lost half your staff in a day. I've got a few former students in the city looking for work. I'd be happy to send them your way. I think they'd learn a lot here."

"Oh my god." Rey put a hand to her chest. "Yes! Thank you."

"No, thank you. I haven't had an opera cake that good since I was in France. Have you ever been to _Suie_?"

Rey threw her head back and laughed. "Out of curiosity, when was the last time you had opera cake in _Suie_?"

"About five years ago," he replied, clearly confused by her reaction.

Rey nodded. "Then you've just had the exact same one. I worked for Poirier."

"That bastard. Ben didn't tell me that." Roger beamed. "I interned with Poirier. It's been," he let out a breath, thinking, "fifteen years now. No wonder! No one makes a _flaugnarde_ like Poirier did."

"I still haven't quite worked it out."

"You're damn close." He offered his hand again. "It was great meeting you. I'll be sure to send a few applicants your way."

She shook his hand. "You'd be saving my ass."

"Don't mention it. We'll stop in again the next time we're here."

"Please do and tell your friends."

Roger and his wife waved as they exited. Things were looking up. Actual culinary students would be a huge help. She wouldn't have to do all the baking herself. She might have to pay a little extra, but she could afford it. If it brought in more business, even better!

* * *

Ben didn't come around again until Tuesday. She was ready for him when the bell rang. _"Bonsoir,"_ she called, peeking around the displays. "Lock the door. I've got a surprise for you!" She heard the lock click and the clank of metal against the glass as he flipped the sign. She caught sight of him leaning over the counter. "Come on," she waved him into the kitchen.

A curious smiled played at his lips as he shimmied past the counter and made his way into the kitchen. It was only the second time he'd been into the back of house. Normally they took their coffees in the dining room and she cleaned up after he was gone. It gave her a bit of a thrill seeing him walking into her domain.

"What's all this about?"

"Your friend Roger came by this weekend."

Ben slipped his hands into his pockets, quirking an eyebrow. "He told me."

"And I've already gotten several applicants. One of whom interviewed with me this morning." She slid a shiny cloche to the edge of the brushed steel countertop and smiled. "I wanted to say thank you."

Rey cherished the look of surprise on Ben's face as she lifted the dome off the plate. He wasn't the only one who remembered the stories they shared. She'd been rather fond of one from Ben's childhood. He'd summered often with his uncle who lived in the Limousin region. The caretaker there used to make authentic _clafoutis_. Black cherries with the pits and all. Rey had done a few in the past with other fruits, but Ben was especially fond of the original.

_"Chérie,"_ he breathed.

She picked up the waiting sieve and dusted it with powdered sugar. The scent of sugar hitting the warm custard sweetened the air around her. _"Bon appétit."_

Before her brain caught up to what was happening his arms were around her. She jumped, sending sugar flying onto his suit coat.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Your coat," she whined.

"Forget the coat." He stepped back, keeping his hands on her shoulders. She tried to ignore the subtle uptick in the number of times her heart beat each minute. "Rey, thank you. I love _clafoutis_. I haven't had the real thing since I was a teenager."

"I remember." She pulled a spoon from the counter and held it up for him. "Go on. I'll make coffee."

She tried to move, but he held her in place. "Share it with me?"

Rey nodded.

* * *

Ben started showing up more frequently after that. Nearly every night really. Even weekends, which he'd never done before. He'd also started coming into the back after close and just sitting with her while she worked. There was always prep to do. Many pastry chefs got up early to work, but there was a lot that could be done the night before and Rey was more of a night owl anyway.

It was shortly after she'd hired on a full staff that Ben showed up as she was locking the door. He waved from the far side of the glass, his hair blowing in a gentle breeze. She unlocked the door for him. Warm summer wind filtered through, bringing with it the scent of rain and the spicy aroma of Ben's cologne. She was overwhelmed by the sudden urge to run her fingers through his hair.

"I didn't expect you tonight," she said, desperate to get away from the thoughts in her lizard brain.

"Late meeting. I was afraid I'd missed you."

She clicked her tongue, waving him in. "You know I'm always here late."

"I never want to assume, but I was hoping you were."

Her lizard brain started acting up again as she closed the door. Watching him shrug out of his jacket was quite possibly her favorite thing about his late-night visits. Too often in recent weeks she'd taken to wondering what he was hiding under those crisp white Oxfords. A harsh smell filled her nose distracting her from her imaginings.

"Is something—"

"Shit!" Rey leapt past the register, dashing into the back at full speed.

Ben made it into the kitchen as she was pulling a tray of pie shells out of the oven. From the corner of her eye she watched him hang his blazer on the rack with their chef's whites. She'd discarded hers over an hour ago in favor of the tank top she'd worn in. Her whites were filthy at this point.

"Are they salvageable?" he asked, sliding onto a clean stretch of countertop.

Rey gave them a cursory inspection. "They look that way. Maybe a couple of them will have to be repurposed. I'll have to wait for them to cool before I can check properly."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It wasn't your fault."

"Habit. I feel like I've been apologizing all day."

"Bad day?"

He shrugged. "Aren't they all? I haven't even had lunch."

"Fantastic!" Rey spun toward Ben. "Then I have a few things for you to sample."

His wide mouth split into a toothy grin. "I am at your disposal."

She ran into the cooler, pulling a few of the mini croissants for the tray. She spied the mason jars and plucked one of those as well.

"I have four savory croissants—"

"Savory?"

"Yes! Savory." She pointed at each one in turn, "Basic ham and cheese. We're using a really lovely gruyere and fontina, locally sourced. This is a mushroom and cheese. Chicken and chive with a butter garlic crust. And this one I'm not convinced about. It's a sausage and pepper but we had to get the sausage really dry or it would get greasy and the croissant wouldn't rise."

He smiled warmly at her, a look of pride on his face. "Sounds amazing."

"These'll be about ten minutes and you can try them." She slid the mason jar toward him. "And this is for you. This is the last of the raspberries. I'm really proud of this one. It came out perfect."

"Well you made it," he called after her as she popped the pastries in the oven.

She could almost convince herself that the heat radiating across her face was the convection oven. Almost. The shuffling of metal pulled her attention back to the guest in her kitchen. Ben was rifling through the sink. He turned the water on and began to wash.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting a spoon. No use dirtying another one." He hopped back onto the counter a second later, unscrewing the top on the mason jar. "So, you're finally doing savory dishes? How long have you been talking about it?"

"Since before you started darkening my doorstep." She settled against the counter opposite him. There were still popovers in the oven. They'd be coming out soon. Once they were cooling, she could make coffee.

Ben eyed the exposed contents of the jar with unreserved glee. He really loved food. A small part of her wanted to believe that he really loved _her_ food. Given the number of times they'd discussed the topic at length she knew his love was not strictly reserved for the work of her hands. He just loved to eat. Not that you could tell looking at him.

"You never cease to amaze me," he said absently. "A few weeks ago you were hanging on by a thread, but you made it through and now," he chuckled, "now you're better off than you were before."

"If I recall, there was a good Samaritan who helped."

He shook his head. "All I did was make a phone call. The rest of it was you, Rey." He dipped the spoon into the jar, inspected the contents with the eye of a trained expert and put the spoon into his mouth.

Rey could barely contain herself. "So?"

He held a finger up, rolling the contents around in his mouth. It was such a foodie thing to do.

_"Chérie,"_ he breathed. "This is amazing."

She waved her arms and stamped her feet and spun around in a circle. "I'm so glad you like it."

He took another spoonful. "Fuck, this is sinful." He dipped his spoon in again.

She jumped across the aisle, grabbing his arm to stop him. "Don't eat it all."

"I'm hungry." He paused, spoon still hovering over the jar, and cracked a smile at the tiny hand on his forearm.

"It'll put you off the croissants."

The spoon turned in her direction. She frowned, but he just smiled wider.

"Open up."

Her mouth went dry. It may or may not have resembled the exact set of circumstances she'd imagined – unintentionally, of course – while bottling this particular batch of preserves. He inched the spoon closer to her, peering down at her lips. A flutter of butterflies went dancing through her stomach as she opened her mouth. The jam was cold and tart with just the right hint of sweetness and a pinch of salt to bring out the brightness of the fruit.

Ben's gaze wandered back to her lips when she licked them. Everything in the room seemed to slow down. He brought the spoon to his mouth. Rey was hypnotized by the muscles in his throat as he licked the spoon clean. The curl of his lips as the utensil came free again. There was a hunger in his eyes. One she'd seen a hundred times in her daydreams. He leaned toward her, words forming against his parted lips.

The egg timer went off. Buzzing loudly through the kitchen. She jumped immediately toward it, shutting the infernal thing off before it gave her a heart attack. Well, it already had given her a heart attack. What had she been thinking? For a second it felt like… No. That was her imagination. Too many fantasies about Ben in the kitchen with the mason jar, or would it be the spoon?

She turned to him with an apologetic smile. "Popovers."

The sideways glance he offered in response made her think he didn't give a good god damn about the popovers. She darted toward the oven and away from that look.

Fresh baked bread was one of Rey's favorite smells. It was the thing that most made her want to become a chef. As she slid the tray out, she heard the clink of silverware in the sink and the sound of rushing water. She set the tray down to cool to find that this time he really was doing the dishes.

"Stop that," she chided.

"Why? You give me enough free food. I think you've earned a couple hours of hard labor out of me."

"I doubt I could afford your hourly rate." She settled against the counter next to him. It had long ago become clear that arguing with him was a fool's errand, but she could still try.

"I charge what I want to charge depending on the client. Your company is worth more to me than any contract."

"Now you're just angling for more free food."

"I never work for what I know I can get for free," he replied absently. "The food is a bonus. It's your attention I need to work for."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"When was the last time you took a day off, Rey?"

"When you love what you do it's never work."

Ben's whole body seemed to freeze. His hands stilled. His shoulders stiffened. His brow furrowed over a sad smile. Rey wondered if she'd said something to upset him. After a long, tense moment he sighed and resumed his cleaning.

"That, I can't argue with."

* * *

"Chef, we got a problem."

Rey looked up at the young man, Allen, one of her culinary school grads. It felt like only yesterday she'd hired him. In reality, it had been four months. Business had taken a huge turn after her visit from Roger.

"What is it?"

"Craig can't make it today."

"That's alright." Rey shrugged. "We can go without him for a day."

She'd only recently added the delivery service. The interesting thing about it was how often Ben availed himself of it. She'd finally gotten him to order fresh pastries in advance. It was a minor miracle.

"Yeah, for lunch, but we've got that big morning delivery for Solo."

"I thought that was tomorrow?"

"It's every day," Craig corrected. "He called back a couple days later, said he needed it for the whole week."

Rey hadn't heard about that. Her business was growing so quickly it was getting hard to keep up. Maybe it was time to take Finn's advice and hire a manager.

"What do we do chef? We got a hundred and fifty specialty assorted pastries and no driver."

"When's the delivery?"

Allen looked at his watch. "Due in an hour."

"Alright. Hold down the fort. I'll do it."

"Yes, chef."

They carefully arranged the three extra-large boxes into Rey's beat up Lincoln and she made her way toward downtown. The buildings grew taller and taller as she neared the address marked on her GPS. They reminded her of trees reaching up towards the sky. It was strange going to Ben's place of work. He always came to her. She'd often wondered what his life was like outside her tiny shop. It thrilled her to finally get a peek.

The parking lot at Ben's legal firm was packed when she arrived. She was already running a couple minutes late and finding a parking spot had cost her several more. She worked gingerly getting the boxes out of her car and made the long trek from the back of the lot toward the main entrance. She hadn't thought to bring a coat and the fall breeze was cutting right through her chef's whites. She was shivering by the time she made the front door.

The foyer of the legal firm was enormous. It had a pristine quality to it, bordering on antiseptic. The black marble floors shone to a mirror finish. The large reception desk was a red gash against the charcoal walls. A woman sat at the desk, huddled in her seat as the man next to her berated her in a hushed, angry voice. She brightened when her eyes fell on Rey.

"They're here!" The woman waved in Rey's direction.

"About damn time," the man snapped. "Where the hell have you been?"

Rey put on a pleasant smile. "So sorry. Our delivery driver called out this morning."

"Yeah? Tell someone who gives a shit. Follow me."

Rey blanched. The man didn't even wait for her. He was halfway down the hall when she found her feet. The poor receptionist mouthed the word 'sorry' as she passed. He led her to a door at the far end and pushed it open with a grunt.

"Your pastries are finally here!" He glanced backward at Rey. "Hurry up would ya?"

He disappeared into the room, letting the door fall closed behind him. Rey sighed. There was no way to open it with her hands full. She tried knocking, but the best she got was tapping her knuckles on the door. They barely made a sound. She jiggled the handle with her fingertips but couldn't get enough leverage to swing the door open. Muffled shouting came from inside. A second voice shouted back. Rey barely had enough time to hop out of the way before the door swung open in her face.

The man from the entry sneered at her, holding the door open to let her pass. The sight of the auditorium took her breath away. It was a circular room done up in the same red and black motif as the foyer. It was striking in its stark beauty.

"Seriously, kid. Could you get a move on, we've got shit to do?"

Rey's arms were getting tired. She adjusted the boxes. "What should I do with them?"

"I gotta spell it out for you?" He pointed a fat finger at a table near the far end of the room. "Put 'em over there."

She turned toward the tables, catching a quick glimpse at a group of men huddled near the podium. She'd barely paused for a second.

"Today please?"

With a huff Rey made her way to the table, the rude man muttering under his breath as he followed.

"Kids these days. Lazy. Entitled. Minimum wage hacks who—"

"Excuse me!" Rey spat. She'd had enough. She dumped the boxes on the table and rounded on the fat man. "I've had quite enough of your abuse, thank you! If this is what my employee deals with every time he comes here then I can assure you we will not be making any more deliveries to your company."

"Lady, who the fuck do you—"

"Stevens!" A deep voice barked.

Rey turned to the cluster of onlookers at the front of the room. Their attention had turned to her at her outburst. Ben stood at the head of the group, anger marring the normally cheerful lines on his face. He strode up the sloped aisle toward them.

"What the hell did you say to her?" Ben spat.

"Boss, I—"

"What did you say?"

His anger was terrifying. She'd never seen him like that before. "Ben, it's fine."

The man's eyes grew wide, his head darting between them. A realization dawned on him that turned him white as a sheet. "I'm sorry, boss."

"Don't apologize to me," Ben roared.

The man turned to Rey, dipping into a slight bow, eyes on the floor. "I'm sorry, miss. I was out of line. It won't happen again." He turned to Ben, eyes pleading.

"Get out of my sight."

"Yeah, boss." The man skittered away, disappearing back into the hall.

Ben watched him go, fury blazing in his eyes. It scared her more than a little.

"I should probably go," she said quietly.

Those angry eyes found her, turning her blood to ice in her veins. He blinked as though startled and the anger melted away in seconds.

"I'm so sorry about that. Stevens is a pill. I didn't know he was being rude to your delivery driver."

"Neither did I," she said firmly. "I will ask you to see that it stops or I will make good on my promise."

"Of course, Rey." His lip curled at the end. "I'd expect nothing less. Let me walk you out."

She nodded. Ben turned toward his peers. Or were they his employees? Rey couldn't be sure.

"Jones, take care of these boxes. I'll be back in a minute."

"But boss, the team from—"

"The boxes!" Ben snapped, pushing the auditorium door open roughly.

Rey snuck through it and out into hall before there could be any more shouting. With each passing second she felt the growing desire to get the hell out of there. She chided herself for wanting to intrude on Ben's life. It had been a mistake to come. The hallway suddenly seemed to her as cold as the parking lot. She rubbed her hands together, willing warmth back into her stiff fingers.

_"Chérie,_ you're shaking." She felt a warm hand on her back. "Follow me."

"I really should be going."

"It'll only take a second."

He ducked down a side hall and into one of the rooms. Rey followed him, her curiosity winning out over her discomfort. The room he'd stepped into was an office. From the look of it, _his_ office. It was as large as her kitchen. Possibly as large as her whole shop.

A collection of frames by the door caught her eye. They were of Ben and presumably his family. She recognized the French countryside sprawling out behind a teenage boy and the middle aged man next to him. Next to it were a group of pictures featuring the same three people. Ben and a man and woman who must have been his parents. He looked so much like them.

Black fabric fell across her shoulders under warm hands. She looked down at the thin fleece coat. It was embroidered with the same hexagonal logo she'd seen on the side of the building.

"Take this. Don't want you getting sick."

"Thanks," she said slipping her arms through the coat. It was practically a dress on her and Ben snickered as she zipped it up.

"I'm genuinely sorry for earlier. I wish you hadn't seen that."

The question flew from Rey's mouth before she could stop it. "Why?"

He hesitated, turning his head away. "I don't want you see me like that."

She realized then what made her so uncomfortable. "Is that who you really are?"

"Sometimes."

There was a sadness in his eyes at the revelation. In the back of her head she'd always known that some part of him was a cutthroat lawyer at a major law firm. It was impossible for him to have been the sweet patron who visited her all the time, she just never imagined how intense his world might be outside of their interactions.

She put a hand on his arm. "Thank you for standing up for me."

He smirked. "You did a pretty good job of that yourself."

She poked him in the chest playfully. "Take care of my driver."

"I will," he promised.

"Good. I've got to go."

He nodded and showed her out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben didn't visit her that night, or any of the nights that week. Craig confirmed that all the big special orders were made to the giant conference room and that his reception had markedly improved after her visit. The first few nights she told herself that whatever he was working on was probably consuming all his spare time. Some big deal that was far more important than his nightly social calls to the local baker. But as the week wore on it began to occur to her that this arrangement between them was woefully one-sided.

If he were having a rough day he'd definitely stop by for a coffee, but when she was having a bad day, there was no way to know if he'd be there. Was that really a friendship? When he could call on her, but she couldn't ask the same of him? How many nights had she waited in the shop an extra hour on the off chance he might wander through? And what was she to do about the crush that had long since spiraled out of control?

They'd shared so many long nights of intense conversation about all the things that were beautiful about life, but none of the details that made it real. What did she know about him? She'd never seen him out of a suit. He'd never seen her outside of her whites. The four walls of her shop had been the beginning and end of their relationship for over a year and stepping outside that had really called into question her sanity.

What worried her most was the anger. She'd never seen anything like that in her life. It was instant and terrifying and she still wasn't sure what to make of it. There had never been even the tiniest hint of it before, but the way that Stevens had gone pale at Ben's fury said everything she needed to know. He'd seen that anger before and it scared him. It scared her too.

By Friday night she was convinced that it needed to end. Whatever fool thing they were doing needed to stop, for her sake. She was so lost in her thoughts that the sound of the shop phone ringing nearly made her jump out of her skin. It was well past closing time and most of the work for the morning was done. She let the phone ring. No one could expect her to be open at that hour.

The answering machine picked up. She heard the caller disconnect before the message was over. A moment later the ringing started again. Curious, she wandered into the office as the machine picked up a second time. When the beep came she heard a deep sigh that made her heart pound.

"Good evening. This is Ben Solo. I apologize for calling at this hour. I didn't realize how late it was. Rey, if you're still there I was hoping to speak to you. My number should be on file. Even if you get this message in the morning, please give me a call. Thank you."

The line went dead. A single red light began to blink indicating she had a message. She immediately deleted it for fear one of the others would find it in the morning. It seemed too personal for anyone else to hear. Completely unprofessional on his part to leave a message at her place of work, least of all that late at night. It occurred to her then that he might still show up. She hurried through the closeout. Turning the lights off and collecting her things just in time to hear the knocking on the glass outside.

In her dark kitchen, Rey froze. Creeping carefully toward the dining room in the dim red light from the emergency exit sign. A shadow fell across the dining room in the shape of a man. She couldn't see it clearly past the display cases, but she knew it must be Ben. She watched the shadow move, searching the glass storefront for signs of life inside. For several minutes she stood frozen, waiting.

The shadow moved on, but Rey waited for a long while afterward, not daring to move. When she was certain he was gone, positive he wouldn't be loitering outside, she let out the breath she was holding. It took a few more seconds for her heartbeat to slow. When she was ready she reached for her coat on the rack by the kitchen door. In the dim light the chef's whites took on a ruddy color, but the coats were darker. She reached for one and her hand closed around thin fleece.

Ben's coat had been sitting on the peg since Monday, waiting for him to come and collect it. He hadn't come and when he finally did she'd pretended not to be there. How often had she told him that he was welcome at any hour? That for as long as she was there it was never too late to visit. But opening the door felt like accepting that he held all the cards. Yet in the wake of it, hiding seemed petulant.

It was a problem for another day. It was too late to take it back. She'd just have to wait and see what happened next.

* * *

Rey didn't call the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that. Ben didn't come either. The fleece stayed on the peg by the door. The following Wednesday a bottle of wine appeared with a note from the law firm thanking them for their service. Her name wasn't on it, nor was Ben's. It could have been from anyone. As impersonal as a fruit basket. An empty corporate gesture. It was a really good bottle of wine though and Rey didn't want to waste it. She gave it to Craig for putting up with their shit for so long.

Another week passed and Rey grew more and more certain that Ben wouldn't return. The next time his firm called it was someone else entirely placing the order. Rey made sure to send the coat with Craig on that delivery. She couldn't bear to keep it but could no longer stand to see it hanging there either.

She'd been an idiot. A complete idiot about the whole thing. They were never really friends. Friends didn't just disappear on you. Part of her wondered if she should have called him back. By the time she regretted it, it was too late to call. Weeks had passed with no word. Before she noticed a month had passed without Ben in her life.

It was strange how easily she fell back into the rhythm of her life as though he'd never been there at all. Still, there were nights when she'd be working alone in the kitchen, think of something funny and turn toward an empty stretch of countertop to find there was no one there to tell it to. She left early on those nights. Leaving her work incomplete. It was easier that way, to simply get up and walk away from the empty spot in her kitchen. Though the empty spot in her life remained, she couldn't walk away from it.

* * *

"Holy shit, boss!"

Rey smiled at the woman in front of the register. Angela was her new manager. She'd come highly recommended and after only a week had taken the chaos of Rey's life and put the whole thing in order. "Good day?"

"Best Saturday you've had all year."

"I think you meant best Saturday _we've_ had all year?"

Angela chuckled. "Still adjusting."

"Well I for one, am very happy you've joined us." Rey slid a near empty tray of cookies out of the display. "I'm going to finish up the prep for tomorrow. If you could grab the last few trays, you're free to go."

Angela finished the count-out as Rey wandered into the back. She'd barely made it to the counter when she heard Angela calling out.

"I'm sorry, we're closed."

There was a muffled response from the door.

"No, sir. We're closed."

She heard banging against the door. That alarmed Rey and she wandered back toward the dining room.

"Sir, if you don't leave I will call the police."

A man was standing at the door, his features were obscured by the glare from the street lights reflecting against the glass.

"Rey!" he called.

Despite herself she felt her pulse quicken. She'd wanted to tell herself that it wasn't him, but that voice… there was no mistaking it. It was Ben.

"Do you know him?"

"Yes, though I haven't seen him in weeks."

"Who is he?"

Rey turned to Angela, uncertain what to say. Who should she say he was? How could she explain his presence after close? It seemed a lifetime ago since she'd seen him, yet it felt like only yesterday since they'd been laughing in the kitchen. She jumped when the phone rang, turning her attention to the man in the window. His phone was at his ear. She frowned at him, uncertain of what to do.

"Boss, are you okay?" Angela took her arm. "Should I call the police?"

The ringing stopped. Ben looked down at his phone, back at her, then called again. This time Rey answered.

"One moment please," she said, staring through the glass door at him.

"Okay." There was a hesitation in his voice.

Rey pressed the phone to her shoulder. "Angie, why don't you head home. I'll take care of things from here."

"Are you sure? Cause if you need me to stay."

Rey shook her head. "It'll be fine, I promise. Ben's a regular, I'm just surprised to see him is all."

Angela gave one last uncertain look at the man in the doorway then disappeared into the kitchen. Rey pulled the phone to her ear.

"Hello, Ben."

"I was really afraid I'd missed you this time. Are you closing up for the night?"

"Yes."

"May I come in?"

Rey hesitated at the uncertainty in his words.

"I scared you, didn't I?" He dropped his hand to his side, turning toward the empty street as he screamed out into the night. "Damnit!"

"Boss?" Angela called.

"It's fine," Rey called back.

Ben reappeared at the door, the phone at his ear again. "Please, Rey, I've had a crazy month. I'm exhausted and terrified, but it's all good things and you have no idea how much of it I owe to you."

"You're right," she said, surprising herself. She dropped her voice so Angela wouldn't hear her. "I don't know because I don't actually know anything about you and you know everything about me. I'm glad you've had a good month. I've spent the last few weeks wondering if you'd ever bother showing up again only to realize I don't know how to call you and find out."

He pressed his forehead to glass. "Rey, you have my phone number."

"I have your business number, for deliveries."

He shook his head, pressing his nose across the glass. "No. This is my cell number. I asked you to call. Why didn't you call?"

There was no good answer to that, so she redirected. "I suppose for the same reason you've been missing. I was working."

"The night I called I was leaving the next day. I've been in Europe since. I have so much to tell you. Please, Rey, please let me in."

Suddenly the wall of frustration she'd been building up brick by brick all month began to crumble. If he'd been overseas working, it would have been difficult to coordinate a phone call. "Should I make coffee?"

"That would be wonderful, _chérie_."

She managed to hide her smile as she returned the receiver to the cradle behind her. Angela returned to the dining room a moment later, purse and coat in hand.

"You sure you're gonna be alright?" Angela asked.

"I'll be fine."

Rey followed her employee to the door and waited as Angela exited and Ben entered. She didn't look at him as she locked the door, turned off the dining room lights, and proceeded into her warm kitchen. She pulled the stand mixer to the edge of the counter, peeked at the custard inside then moved to check the tart crusts. They were still too warm to pipe the custard into, but the cake pops were cool enough to fill now. She found the chocolate and raspberry sauce and set them next to the stand mixer, preparing her station.

"Are you angry with me?" Ben hovered in the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen, his coat still on.

"I'm frustrated," she admitted as she washed her hands. "After seeing you in your office, well, I'd never seen you like that before and then you disappeared." She grabbed a clean towel from the stack over the sink and tucked it into her apron when she was finished with it. "I wasn't sure what to make of that. Then it occurred to me that this is the extent of our so-called-friendship." She waved at the kitchen absently as she moved back to the station she'd set up for herself. "Outside of these walls, what do we really know about each other?"

She picked up the first of the cake rounds and began filling it. It was muscle memory; her body knew what to do without conscious thought. Half a dozen of them were filled and set aside before she realized Ben had shrugged out of his coat and she'd missed it. She chided herself for still wishing she'd caught a glimpse. After everything, she should be past those urges. She wasn't.

"You're always working. This is the only place I can see you. When you're not here you're at home, sleeping. Seven days a week. Three hundred and sixty-five days a year. Yes, I'm the same. All I do is work, but this, these few hours a week are the only time I get to be someone other than the man you saw at my office."

He appeared at her side, leaning against the metal countertop, close enough to reach, but far enough that she had space to work. It had taken him time to figure out what the best distance was to be close to her without impeding her work. That he'd made the effort to learn it had to count for something, didn't it?

"Rey, will you stop for a minute and talk to me?"

"I have to finish these and then fill the tarts or I'll be here all night," she paused when she realized she sounded annoyed. "Tell me about your month. You said there were good things."

Ben sighed, "We landed an international contract. It's why I had to leave so suddenly. I've been wandering all over Europe meeting with the different branches of the firm."

"That does sound good."

"Very good. It's my contract. I courted them and I won them over. It was the leverage I needed."

"Leverage? Against what?" She set the tray of raspberry cake pops aside and pulled the chocolate sauce towards her.

"My boss. They've made me a partner. I'm out from under him entirely."

The pieces slid into place. The horrible boss that he'd been trying to crawl out from under for years. The one who made his life miserable. She couldn't begrudge him the absence if it meant his freedom. It was as if no time had passed. She rounded on him, a broad smile on her face.

"Ben, that's great! Oh my god!"

"I have you to thank."

She snorted, returning to her busy work. "I doubt that severely."

"I'm being serious. I'd given up. I used to love what I do, but this job made me hate it, made me hate who I was becoming. Then I met you and no matter how bad shit got you always pushed through it. You and I dedicate the same amount of time to our work. If you can love every minute of it then I could learn to love it again too. When you showed up on the first day of negotiations instead of the usual driver, I knew it was a good sign. I knew I could do it because of you."

Baking came as naturally to Rey as breathing. It never occurred to her doing something so simple might inspire someone else, let alone someone like Ben. All of this was going on in his life and he'd shared it with her, she just hadn't seen how important it was to him.

"I'm sorry, I never really said any of this before. You've been so busy growing the shop these last few months. I didn't want to unload all this on you."

"The way I always unburdened all my problems on you?"

"It remains the best part of my week."

She placed the last cake pop on the tray and sighed. "And seeing you was the best part of mine until it stopped. I understand it was a good thing and I'm happy for you, really I am, but I realized that this… well it isn't normal." She pulled the tray of confections off the counter and held it between them like a barrier. "My friends are people that I can call when I need them. You show up when it's convenient for you, help when it's convenient for you, then disappear when it's convenient for you and here I am holding my pastries day in and day out wondering if you might visit. I can't keep doing it."

Before she could psych herself out about the admission, she grabbed the tray and took it into the walk-in. She returned to her station to find the tart crusts were still warm. She could try and pull them out, but they might crack on her and if they were too warm the custard wouldn't set properly.

Ben was watching her intently with the same look from that crazy night with the raspberry preserves. She'd have to risk it with the tarts. Safer to keep herself busy than to let her imagination wander. If she lingered on him too long her resolve would crumble as easily as the tarts would.

"They're not ready," Ben said.

"So now you're an expert on baking too?" she spat.

"No, but I can read people and I've been reading you for a long time, _chérie_." He touched her arm. "You're just trying to keep yourself busy."

She hated that he knew that. Hated that he could read on her face the status of her pastries. Hated that for a month she'd convinced herself he wouldn't come back, but one stupid pet name in French could make her weak in the knees.

"Stop it!" She pulled her arm away from him.

"Stop what?"

"Stop acting like you know me so damn well."

"I do." He leaned toward her, arms reaching out. "And you know me, everything that's worth knowing I've shared with you. Why can't you see that, Rey?"

"Stop!"

She wasn't sure what came over her, panic probably, but before he could get his arms around her, she shoved him. It wasn't particularly hard, but it shocked him. He stumbled back, eyes wide, hands flying backwards away from her and right into the stand mixer. The machine whirred to life. Custard flew into the air, splattering everything in range. Rey blinked in surprise, jostling him aside in her rush to shut it off.

There was custard _everywhere_. She could feel it all over her face, seeping into her jacket, it was even dripping down her neck. Ben laughed, startling her. Fury rose up and she rounded on him, intent on reading him the riot act, but the odd sight stopped her. He was a mess. It was all over his nice shirt, in his hair, on the bits of his face he hadn't managed to cover with his hands.

The hesitation he'd been wearing like a second coat from the moment he walked through the door melted away like warm chocolate and all her anger with it. This was the Ben she knew. The one who came to visit in the night. The one who she could share her recipes with. The one who missed France as much as she did. Before she realized it, Rey was laughing too.

"It's in your hair!" Rey mused.

"You're covered in it," Ben countered.

Her eyes went wide, the warm sticky mess was dripping down her chest and pooling in her bra. "Oh no," Rey reached down the front of her shirt and scooped globs of it from between her breasts.

This sent Ben into another fit of laughter. He reached for the nearest towel. "Come here." Face still bright with mirth, he gingerly ran the towel across Rey's forehead. "Close your eyes."

Rey's heart nearly stopped. Nervously, she shut her eyes. Ben took her chin, angling her head upward as he cleaned the custard from her eyebrows.

"I missed you, Rey. I thought about you every day that I was gone. If seeing you like this isn't working then please, give me a chance to make it up to you. Tell me what to do and I'll do it. I don't want to lose you."

When he ran the towel down her cheek, she was acutely aware of the feel of his knuckles grazing her skin when he curled the towel away. He folded it over and brushed it against her jaw, across her chin. He clicked his tongue. Curious, she peeked up at him.

"I need another towel," he said, his eyes fixed on her lips. "At this point I'm just smearing it around."

He dumped the dirty rag on the counter behind her and ran his thumb across her chin instead, the tip of his finger ghosting across her bottom lip. Her lips parted at the touch. She caught the barest hint of surprise on his face. After a pause, he did it again, this time purposefully running his thumb across her lower lip. It made her shiver.

_"Chérie,"_ he whispered, eyes still on her lips. "You're shaking." A smirk curled at the edge of his lip. "Are you cold?" He ran his thumb across her top lip and Rey was lost.

She had no logical explanation for what she did next. It was madness of the highest order, but Ben had unlocked the door and she would step through it. She took a fist full of his shirt and pulled him toward her, covering his mouth with her other hand. When he was close enough, she ran her tongue up the bridge of his nose, licking the custard clean.

He sighed, warm breath rushing through her fingers. His hand snaked into her hair, turning her cheek toward him. Her hand fell away from his mouth, allowing him to wrap it around the edge of her jaw, sucking the custard away. In all her fantasies it had never felt so good. His tongue slid out onto her neck, making her groan.

She took a fistful of his hair, slick and sticky between her fingers, and turned him until she had his ear. She ran her tongue along his earlobe before pulling it between her teeth.

Her name flew out into the air in exultation. "Rey."

The madness of the moment came into sharp relief. For an instant, she wasn't sure if this was a daydream. Another flight of fancy. Ben in the kitchen with the custard dripping down her neck. Then his lips were there, teeth grazing her skin and all doubts of shattering the illusion fled.

She pulled his body flush against her until he was pinning her against the metal countertop. The ever-present urge to run her fingers through his hair roared to life and she gave in. It was thick and course between her fingers. His tongue was searching her skin. Licking her clean. Dipping lower and lower down her neck. His fingers fumbled at the collar of her chef's whites, pulling it aside. She reached for the first button herself, slipping it free.

Ben took the cue, undoing the next button. His exploration of her skin dipping lower one agonizing button at a time. She ran her nails along his scalp and panted into his ear as the last few buttons came free and he slid the coat down to her elbows. A moment later, she was lifted off her feet, ass sliding onto the countertop. He kissed her lower, dipping his tongue between her breasts to get at the bits of custard she hadn't been able to remove.

Rey didn't think. She didn't question the insanity burning through her. She reached into the mixing bowl, pulled him free of her chest, dipped her index finger into custard and smeared it across her bottom lip. The craving in Ben's eyes made her whole body feel like a loaf of dough rising in the oven, hot and expanding while still pliant under his touch.

She pulled him back toward her, toward what she wanted most. To feel his lips press to hers. His lips parted, hesitating over hers. He took a rattling breath, eyes locking with hers as his tongue darted out and skimmed her custard covered lips.

It was too much to hold in. Rey moaned softly, eyes falling shut as he closed the last of the distance, sealing her mouth with his. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pinning his body against her, letting her hands wander across his chest and to his back. He tugged at her jacket and she let him go only long enough for him to pull it free, then her hands were on him again as his tongue darted into her mouth once more.

She could taste the custard on his tongue. Cream and vanilla with a hint of anise. Just under that, something new. Something different. Something she'd never tasted before. _Him._ Ben was in her kitchen, pressed into her, kissing her. He was real and warm and solid and the sweetest thing she'd ever tasted. She raked her nails down his chest and he groaned into her.

At the waistband of his trousers, she tugged at his shirt until it was free and slipped her hands underneath. What she felt there made her stop dead. She pulled back in a rush, frowning.

Ben blinked wildly at her, taking in the disbelief on her face. "What? What is it?"

Words could not begin to express the shock she was feeling, so she did the only thing she thought reasonable. She tried to pull the shirt up and over and his head. After a moment's confusion, he let her. With the barrier between them now gone she was free to openly marvel at the pure perfection in front of her.

_"Chérie?"_

"Hush," she snapped, though slack jawed as she was, the words held no bite to them.

He was a work of art. A miracle. Carved out of marble so perfectly that even Michelangelo would have wept at the sight. If she'd known all those months ago what he was hiding under his tailored suits she might have been bolder. Then again, she might never have been so bold tonight. No man this perfect could ever want her.

"Should I be worried?" he asked.

"You should eat a goddamn sandwich!" she blurted out, still gawking openly at his godlike physique. "I don't think there's an ounce of spare fat on you."

Ben tossed his head back and laughed, sending Rey's brain into total tailspin. The tiny muscles between the muscles were jumping into sharp relief as his abdomen clenched and unclenched. She felt like her eyes were going to bulge out of her skull.

"Have you ever even eaten any of my pastries? You had to have. I've watched you. Where do they go?" She ran her fingers along his midsection and the laughter transformed into a breathy sigh. "If anything, I'm the one who should be worried."

He pressed his forehead into hers. She knew he was looking into her eyes, but she couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from his giant pecs.

"What do you have to be worried about?"

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" she finally looked up at him. All her indignation, no matter how hard she tried to hold onto it, fled at the naked adoration in his eyes. "I'm…" She cleared her throat and tried again, "Well, I'm—"

"Absolutely perfect, Rey."

"I am not," she'd meant to say it with more gusto, but it came out meek.

"You are to me."

"Shit," she whispered, looking away. "There's something wrong with your brain isn't there?"

He wrapped his arms around her, wide hands pressed into her back until she was flush against that perfect chest and she was forced to look at him. "Yeah, you."

He kissed her again. This time more carefully. Tentative. Beseeching. Tender. She fell into the sensation of his arms holding her steady and his lips caressing hers. She noted when one of those arms disappeared. Heard the loud _thunk_ of the release latch on the mixer. The groan of the head as it pivoted. She turned just in time to see him take a firm grip on the handle of the mixing bowl and give it a turn so it was free of the base. He laid it rest at her side.

The batch was definitely ruined. Half of it was on the walls, and in her fervor she'd just shoved her hand there. She couldn't serve it to anyone. Ben peered into the metal bowl with a smirk. He dipped an index finger in and came away with big glob of it. Rey grabbed his wrist before he could press the sticky mess to her skin. He'd gotten plenty of time with her chest. It was her turn. She redirected his hand until it was pressed to his throat. She moved it down his neck and between his pecs.

When she was satisfied with her handiwork, she brought his index finger toward her. She made sure to give him the same eye contact he'd given her earlier and ran her tongue up his palm to the tip of his finger before taking it into her mouth. She sucked hard, rolling her tongue around him as she did. His eyelids fluttered closed. She worked him in and out of her mouth a few times.

It was strange. After that story he'd told her, she always marveled at how big his hands were, but it was a wholly different thing having them on her body and this case, in her mouth. His fingers were thick and meaty. She imagined what it would be like to really suck him off. She'd have to find out.

Rey released his hand, taking a moment to better smear the sticky confection down his neck, running it down his Adam's apple and across his collar bones. She took him by the shoulders and pulled him toward her. His hands slid free of her back to steady himself on the counter as she set to work licking him clean. His skin was salty, mingling with the cloying sweetness on her tongue. He smelled of all the things that were most familiar to her. Flour, baked bread, vanilla and that otherness that was his alone.

She ran her hands along his stomach as she worked, leaving a sticky mess everywhere she went. She wanted desperately to lick every inch of his flesh. To claim him in the most childish way, though the desire was far from innocent. She let her tongue play in the hollow of his throat, ran her teeth lightly along his chest until she reached a dark nipple. When she flicked her tongue across it his hands shot to her thighs, gripping them with bruising strength.

"Careful," he warned, his voice barely under control. "What you do to me I will take as a sign that I can do to you."

Rey hummed playfully. "In that case…" She moved to the other nipple, sucking it lightly then biting gently. Ben grunted, his hips thrusting a fraction against her and she could tell she was doing a good job. She laid a gentle kiss over his heart, leaned back on her hands and smiled. "Your turn."

Ben took a deep breath, presumably to steady himself. He reached from the front of her bra, hooking his index finger into the front of it, tugging her toward him. She sat up, draping her arms on his shoulders. "I presume you know what to do."

"I may have some experience with them," he replied, reaching for the clasp. It came free a moment later and he brushed the tips of his fingers along her arms as she slid it free. He held the lacy garment to his lips, taking another deep breath before sliding it across the counter. When it slipped into the sink, Rey winced. The feel of Ben's hand pressed flat against her stomach brought her attention back to him. They were so big his fingertips were nearly touching her breasts.

His eyes were devouring every inch of her exposed skin. " _Chérie_ , I don't know what you were so worried about. You're absolutely beautiful."

It seemed stupid to blush now. She'd just spent twenty minutes licking custard off his bare chest, but a few sweet words sent the blood rising into her cheeks. He chuckled, examining her more critically.

"Hm. But where to begin?" He ran his hand up her abdomen, pinky skating across her nipple making her gasp. He lingered over her collar bone and onto her shoulder. With a nod he slid the bowl of custard away and reached behind her, pulling two squeeze bottles toward him with a single hand. The big ones. Sixteen ounces. Her tiny hands had trouble holding one, but he just wrapped his long fingers around them and they did his bidding.

He reached for the chocolate first and Rey didn't care that she'd have to make fresh batches of each. The custard was already a total loss. What was a little chocolate and raspberry sauce in the face of all her wildest fantasies coming true? She might not survive, but it would have nothing to do with her profit margin and everything to do with bliss. It was worth it.

Ben flipped the bottle over, placing the tip against her chin, and with the lightest press, ran it down her neck, between her breasts, and all the way down to the hem of her cotton leggings. It was almost comical watching him work. He had the same look of careful concentration chefs got when they were plating a dish. Absently, she wondered how often he'd watched her do it. He then trailed the bottle above the waistband in either direction, pursed his lips and nodded. The bottle was discarded. He leaned toward her slowly and wrapped his mouth around her chin.

It was different this time around. Before she still believed she might be dreaming. She was waiting for the spell to break. The uncertainty distracting her from the sensation. This time she closed her eyes and let herself feel everything. His tongue was like a tiny fire against her skin. The pressure of each stroke raising goosebumps on her arms. The anticipation heightening each movement. He took his time, ensuring that her skin was perfectly clean before he left for the next patch.

Between her breasts, he paused to nip at the edges of them. She didn't notice him reaching for the raspberry sauce. Didn't realize what he was doing until the first cold bead of it made contact with her nipple. She gasped. It was still freezing cold, making her nipple so hard it ached. The change in temperature when he took her into his mouth was almost too intense. He sucked her breast clean until her nipple was pliant again, then repeated the process. Her toes curled when the cold liquid touched her skin a second time.

He moved to her other breast, lifting it up and pressing a line of frigid jam under the seam. She panted in ever shorter breaths as he slowly did his work. It was so cold. So close to her heart. When she looked down at him he was just watching her with an amused smile on his face. She was just about to tell him off when he placed the tip of a bottle against her skin and circled the areola. Her body tensed as her nipple puckered. He licked that clean first then set himself on the mess he'd made below it. Sticky sauce was dripping down her stomach. He licked it all clean, chasing each drop down the sides of her skin and making her giggle.

He proceeded down the center of her body. Around her midsection he pressed a hand against her chest, pushing her back to get at her belly button. She tensed when her back hit the cold steel and gasped when his tongue dipped into the tiny divot. It was giving her ideas about what else his tongue could be diving into. Her legs involuntarily pressed around his sides and he chuckled.

"Everything alright up there?" He pressed a gentle kiss over her belly button.

"Fine," she wheezed.

"Hm." He kissed her lower, smearing the syrup on his chin and nose. Not bothering to stop until he reached the edge of the cotton. "Rey?"

She lifted her head up slightly as he dipped his tongue under the edge of the fabric and licked up the line of her stomach. She groaned, her head falling back to the countertop with a soft _thud_. Her imagination was running wild as he licked the chocolate from her stomach. He kept dipping into the waistband of her leggings with his tongue. Lingering there for a few seconds before retreating. She was pretty sure she'd soaked through them at this point. He had to know. He was _right_ there.

He reached her right hip, fingers digging into her hip bone as he worked the chocolate off her skin. His fingers tucking into the side of the waistband, tugging it down suddenly as his lips pressed against her hip. She moaned when he ran his tongue along the ridge. Her hands were sliding through his hair a second later. It felt like she would die of anticipation. Die before she got what she wanted. He seemed to be feeling the same frustration because he grunted and moved across her body, barely grazing the chocolate with his tongue as he tugged at the other end of leggings. Worrying at her hip. Leaving their sticky work ignored.

He trailed down her still clothed thigh, biting into the flesh. She moaned again, more loudly than the last time. A hand brushed lightly between her legs.

"Oh god," she wheezed. "Please, Ben. Please."

He pressed harder and her legs clamped around him again. The world was spinning. She needed him to touch her. Needed him inside her. She was going to go insane.

"Well, hello!"

Rey bolted upright at the sound of her employee's voice. "Angela," she searched for her coat, barely getting it over her chest as her employee eyed the man between her legs.

"Oh, Mr. Solo. I see you're still here."

Ben rested his head casually on Rey's thigh and smiled. "Angela, right? Good evening. What brings you back?"

Angela chuckled. "I left my phone in my locker. Didn't realize it until I got home," she smiled brightly. "If you'll excuse me." She strode past them as though nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

The moment Angela stepped into the office Rey pulled her coat around her, buttoning it as fast as her fingers could manage. "Get up," she wheezed.

"She'll be gone in a second." Ben replied languidly.

"Get up!"

With a labored sigh Ben stood, making no move to collect his shirt from the floor. Rey stooped for it, thrusting it at him. He took it, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the counter, the complete antithesis of the panic rising inside her.

"Got it," Angela called, stepping back into the kitchen. She smiled as she passed. "Your bra's in the sink. And chef," she turned at the door, pointing at Ben, "Excellent job!"

"Thank you," he said.

"You're very welcome." Her accusing finger darted around the kitchen, "but I'm not cleaning this mess up. Have a good night you two."

A second later the bell chimed. Rey jumped when Ben touched her shoulder.

"Oh my god. Oh my god. What have I done?"

_"Chérie."_ Ben wrapped her up in his arms. "It's alright."

"My new employee just saw my tits and you're telling me it's alright?" She tried to shove him away, but he held her.

"At least it wasn't Craig."

There were no words to respond to that statement, only a high-pitched whine that seemed to wheeze out of her. Ben chuckled.

"It's your kitchen, Rey."

"It's a health code violation," she seethed.

"Do you have any idea how many Michelin star restaurants have this exact kind of health code violation happen on a regular basis?"

Rey already knew the answer to that. She was a chef after all. She just never imagined it would happen to her. "I have to clean this mess up."

"We'll clean it in the morning."

"We?"

He tilted her head up and laid a soft kiss on her lips. "I helped make the mess. I'm going to help clean it up, but first, we have unfinished business."

Rey was torn. She very much wanted to get to their _unfinished business,_ but the thought of ever taking her clothes off in the kitchen again was giving her panic attacks.

"Come back to my place. I'm only a few blocks away. We'll come back before everyone gets here."

"Alright. Let me close up."

With a manager around, Rey's closeout routine went faster than usual. The till was already counted and entered. She just needed to shut down the computer, grab her bag and set the alarm on the way out. When she walked out into the dining room Ben was ready to go, a small brown bag in his hand.

"What have you stolen?" she chuckled.

He opened the bag for her inspection. In it were her lace bra and three squeeze bottles. The chocolate and raspberry sauce, and what she suspected were the remains of custard. "I told you we have unfinished business."

She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him. "I'm going to make you so fat."

"I hope so," he whispered into her ear. "Now, let's get going. The only place this raspberry sauce is allowed to warm up is between your thighs."

**Author's Note:**

> There's more where this came from. If you liked it please keep an eye out for the series which I will probably update more often than my WIPs (which I have to finish before I'm willing to post).
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'm one of those writers that loves to talk to people directly so please feel free to reach out to me. You can shoot me an e-mail (available in my profile), send me a PM on Tumblr [@thoseindarkness](https://thoseindarkness.tumblr.com/), or gimme a shout on [@thoseindarkness](https://twitter.com/thoseindarkness).
> 
> Every author is different so I'm going to be explicit: 
> 
> **MY COMMENT SECTION IS OPEN FOR ANY AND ALL POSTERS**
> 
> You are free to post anything you like in the comments of this story. Point out my grammar and spelling mistakes (I am making corrections after posting). Talk about areas of the prose that you didn't quite understand/weren't clear. Give your personal opinions (positive or negative) about the story. Things you loved. Things you hated. If you felt the character was OOC and why. Things that made you uncomfortable. Things that made you scream at the top of your lungs. How hot I made you. Amazon style reviews (yes, I said it). You can also PM if you don't feel comfortable posting publicly. My box is open (some pun intended).
> 
> I want you to say whatever you want. I'm the kind of writer that uses fan fiction as a method for expanding my skill. Your feedback is 24K gold to me no matter what kind. If you have something to say: SAY IT! You don't have to be afraid of hurting me. My skin is mythril, my bones are adamantium, and my heart is encased in unobtainium. Your words cannot hurt me, only make me stronger. I ask only that you not attack each other. I've painted the target on my own back. Please, don't miss.
> 
> BOMBS AWAY…


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